


Infinite Starbucks

by Menatiera



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Fix-It, Happy Ending, M/M, Missing Scenes, Stucky - Freeform, White Wolf - Freeform, infinity war fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 14:06:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14546349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menatiera/pseuds/Menatiera
Summary: Even a good movie like Infinity War is better with Stucky in it.'Deleted scene' style ficlets to fill in the gaps or follow up the events, based on the Black Panther end credit scene and my headcanons for IW.Mostly fluff! Because we all need it after everything. (I don't think I'll follow up the ending though!) White Wolf POV.Details in chapter summaries to avoid spoilers!





	1. Bracelets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cpt_winniethepooh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpt_winniethepooh/gifts).



> My heartfelt thanks go to [@thesmollestgay](http://thesmollestgay.tumblr.com) for the quick and effective beta work!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The White Wolf is getting ready to the battle - and finally accepts his place in the Wakandan society as well.

When Bucky suited up, he didn't expect anything special. Sure, he knew T'Challa would give him the best gear possible - first, because it would be fucking stupid to do otherwise for your comrade, and T'Challa was many things but not stupid, and second, because it was Wakanda, and Wakanda was Awesome - but... other than that, nothing.

He should’ve known better. Wakanda has always been been more generous than anyone would think of it.

There was the jacket, so similar to the one Sergeant Barnes wore during World War II. When Bucky was asked about his preference, he stated he’d like to have something blue, but never imagined that the wakandans would actually craft something so western, so familiar to him, for him. There was the arm itself, installed with precision and care, the whole time making sure he was as comfortable as possible during the process. It was a miracle of this place’s fine engineering skills, an almost indestructible weapon that was so carefully crafted to be an instrument of defense. There were also the other weapons offered to him, although he refused most of them except some knives, and settled with what he knew: Natalia’s machine gun. The weight of it in his hands wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, because Bucky knew without a doubt he’d be using the gun for good.  
 

He didn't expect the bracelets, hidden among the gear.

He slowly picked them out.

None of them were kimoyo bracelets, per se.

They were more similar to the kids’ version of kimoyo bracelets.

Bucky turned it around, confused. He had learned the tradition: every children in Wakanda made their own bracelet when they reached the right age, and that was a really… personal belonging, something they usually preserved even after they didn’t use them anymore, even after they got their adult bracelet. Bucky didn’t made his own kimoyo bracelet, therefore he didn’t have one. He _shouldn’t_ have one. Yet here it was, not only one, but _three_ , and his heart ached as he realized why.  
 

The kids.  
 

The kids who had kept him company since Shuri first woke him up. The kids: D’lertda, N’Zhudo, and T’Chikirinki, whose names Bucky wasn’t really able to pronounce properly, no matter how hard he tried, and who found it hilarious somehow instead of insulting. The kids who named him White Wolf instead of his actual name, or his _codename_ . The kids who were never afraid of Bucky, who considered him an equal partner, who scolded him when he didn’t know something and helped him learn it without even a light protest anyway. The kids who played and giggled and made him feel accepted and _normal_ and a member of the tribe instead an outsider.

Those kids. Those kids decided to make him kimoyo bracelets, to include him even more.  
 

The sensors in his new arm felt the texture of the straps, how they had been weaved, leather with artificially softened vibranium sewed into it – he couldn’t identify the material of the beads among the threads, but they were hard yet nicely warm and slightly magnetic.

Each of the bracelets were clearly designed for him by careful hands.

One was entirely blue, the different shades entwined into perfect harmony.

The other had a single wolf on it, clearly crafted with the help of an adult, painted white but with blue eyes that almost glowed, its muzzle half a snarl, half a grin.

The third one had a shield. Not _the shield_ , not the original one, not the one Steve left behind in a Siberian bunker not two years ago. The shape was different, not round, but like it was from a European medieval painting, a knight’s shield. It didn’t have stripes, but a star, one half bright white and one half red, and the circle around it was black and gold and painted like the pattern of the metal plates of Bucky’s new arm.

Bucky held the shield with both hands and had to take deep breaths not to cry.  
 

When Ayo arrived to lead him out, her eyes snapped to his wrist immediately, where he had three bracelets on.

She smiled, not unkindly, but in the feverish way of a warrior who smells prey and partner at the same time.

“Shall I inform the General that the White Wolf is ready to take his place in Wakanda?” she asked, and Bucky allowed himself a moment to think about it. The question didn’t hold any expectation, but it had weight: a decision he couldn’t, shouldn’t unmake once he made it.

He nodded.

“Yes,” he answered, unfaltering, “it’s about time.”

“About time,” she echoed, and held out a hand as they got going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The children's names are totally made up by me, because I couldn't find reliable/offical source on them. If you know one, please let me know! :)  
> Say hi on [my tumblr](http://menatiera.tumblr.com) if you feel like! :) English is not my native, so concrit is always welcomed.


	2. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and the gang arrive in Wakanda, where Bucky - the White Wolf - greets them.
> 
> AKA the kiss that should've been in the movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks @thesmallestgay again for the beta work! Check out [TheSmallestThings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmallestThings/pseuds/TheSmallestThings) here on Ao3 and [her tumblr](http://thesmallestgay.tumblr.com) blog!

They hugged each other - him and Steve -, like they always did when Steve came to Wakanda nowadays. Those times when they’d hide their affection were behind both of them. They were unapologetic, clinging at each other with a certain defiance at first and with softer, lighter touches later when they realized no one was about to question or judge them for it.

It was the first time Bucky was able to hug him with both arms, though.

Also, the first time when not only wakandans witnessed it.  
  


Bucky allowed only a moment to shut his eyes and lose himself in the sensations: the smell and touch and pressure and everything; cataloguing the things that changed through times like the fabric under his fingers or the new prick of a beard, and also the things that remained the same: the secure feeling that engulfed him in the arms of Steve, the shape of their bodies fitting together, the protective force with with Steve held him.

But then Bucky forced himself to look at their teammates and meet their eyes. Natalia’s soft smile didn’t tell anything about her thoughts. Wilson’s scowl was more meaningful, but not hostile at all. Maximoff visibly shrugged when looked at, and the others had their own concerns and barely paid any attention to them.  
  


Steve and Bucky’s embrace lingered for a few more moments, then they broke the contact in sync, stepping back at the same time and – probably – with the same dopey grin on their face. Whatever. Bucky totally could’ve lived with this expression from now on if that meant Steve wouldn’t go away again, which was as likely as the sun setting in the east instead of west.

Being a superhero was in Steve’s nature, saving people and caring for them meant the world to him, he couldn’t turn his back on them even if he’d wanted.

And Bucky accepted it. Accepted it when this stupid punk was 90 pounds soaking wet and Bucky had to save his ass in back alley fights, then during the World War, then when he had been hiding from Steve and the rest of the world, and then when Bucky was unable to follow Steve’s lead, needing the peace behind the borders of Wakanda. He accepted it now as well, when he was ready to join in the good fight once again.  
  


As Steve’s fingers traced along the shiny new metal arm, he found the bracelets as well. He arched a questioning eyebrow.

Bucky shrugged, and lifted his hand to show off his new treasures.

Steve cradled his wrist with both palms and the edges of his mouth curled up despite the worry that almost dug trenches to his forehead.

They both know what bracelets meant among wakandan people.  
  


So when Steve invited him in and Bucky shook his head, Steve wasn’t really surprised.

“You don’t want to come in?” Natasha asked, instead of him, and Bucky tried and failed not to look smug.

“Sorry, my post is out here.” His right index finger petted one of the orbs on his bracelet. “I’ll keep an eye on you though,” he promised. Steve and Bucky had their usual frequency to communicate through comms, and another one for the whole team conversations, and the bracelet allowed Bucky to watch everything through fancy holographic projection, so he wasn’t left out of anything.  
  


Still, Steve stayed behind for a moment as T’Challa and Okoye led the newcomers into the palace, if only to knit their fingers together again for a few precious moments and to peck a kiss on Bucky’s lips. “Are you sure about this?”

Bucky spared a glance around them, taking in the signs of Earth’s most advanced technology mixed with the evidences of a rather traditional culture and his sigh was light and relieved. He could wax poetic about this place, he could talk about how awesome the Dora and Shuri are, he could talk about the acceptance he got from the kids. He did none. “Yeah,” he said, “I should protect my home after all.”

Steve hummed and his fingers stroked the bracelets one last time. “Maybe I’ll settle here as well if T’Challa allows me, after this is done,” he whispered as if sharing a sacred secret.

“Sure thing, champ,” Bucky chuckled. “I doubt you’re able to sit still for five minutes, but we’ll see. We have to live long enough first, though.”

Steve’s hold tightened. “We will,” he promised, and then he was rushing inside, only the ghost of his warmth remaining on Bucky’s skin.


	3. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unexpected twist of the events saves the day, but even victorious battles have an aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, my heartfelt thanks go to @thesmollestgay for the quick and effective beta work! Check out [TheSmallestThings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmallestThings/pseuds/TheSmallestThings) here on Ao3 and [her tumblr](http://thesmallestgay.tumblr.com) blog!

Dying was pretty easy, at least for Bucky. He had practice, so to say.

Still, it was weird, like nothing he had ever experienced. It didn’t hurt. It tickled a bit, and it was almost amusing, seeing his own flesh and bone melting into ash and dust in front of his own eyes while his brain wouldn’t really accept the fact that something was really, really wrong… He stepped forward and called for Steve, like he always did, his voice high-pitched into a question towards the end, and he had the comfort of their eyes meeting for one last time while all Bucky is able to think is _‘Not again’._

Steve shouldn’t lose him yet again. It wasn’t fair. Steve deserved better than this.

And maybe, just maybe, Bucky too deserved better.

He shouldn’t have been worried, though.

The next time Bucky opened his eyes, he stood in the exact same spot, but now with fully intact limbs. Not an ounce of dust was lingering in the air that smelled of blood and ozone and sweat. Bucky took a deep breath, and suddenly felt the exhaustion of the battle, the soreness in his muscles, the ache of the wound on his side. The adrenaline drumming in his veins numbed these feelings marginally, but there was nothing that would warn of death and the ceasing of existence any minute.

He scanned the scene in front of him: Steve was a few feet away from where he last saw him, his head and limbs hanging heavily, and Bucky could swear he heard a quiet sob emanate from him. Bucky wanted to sprint over but he didn’t know if it would be wise or not until he at least understood what was happening. Was he a ghost? Now _that_ would suck.

And there was _another_ Steve in the scene. _Holding hands with a Tony Stark._

Bucky blinked, then blinked again. Other-Steve and Other-Stark looked different: they were… they were… something wasn’t right with them. They were too colorful, almost - cartoonish? Steve wore a uniform that was almost an exact replica of the one he wore during the start of his Avengers days, and he had even broader shoulders than usual. And Stark, he was so shiny, and younger than should’ve been, with soft edges on his features that the uplifted faceplate revealed.

Stark nodded and said something. A huge smile blossomed on Other-Steve’s face. His movements were a bit odd too, like Bucky was watching them through a too sharply adjusted screen.

Other-Steve met Bucky’s eyes. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Thanos thinks he won, but we fixed it.”

Then Other-Steve and Other-Tony disappeared in a cloud of blue glitter.

Vision, dead and with an Infinity Stone previously ripped from his forehead, moved.

Bucky’s Steve gasped for air and slowly lifted his head.

No longer could Bucky discipline himself, running to Steve. He was prepared for the disappointment of slipping through him if he was really just a ghost or something, but it didn’t happen, it was okay, he was really here. He dropped to his knees and dropped his arms around Steve, grabbing him close in a rib-breaking hug, and showered Steve’s face, Steve’s neck, Steve’s eyes and lips and forehead with kisses.

“It’s okay,” Bucky echoed the words Other-Steve barely mouthed to him, “it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here, we’re alive, it’s okay.” He wasn’t sure that it was the case, he had exactly zero idea what had happened, but he believed in Steve - in any version of him.

Steve hugged back and cried and clung to him for dear life, and honestly, Bucky wasn’t better either, barely hearing everyone else around them doing the same, yelling and crying tears of relief and shock. The first to join the two of them in the hug was Natalia, closely followed by Wilson and then even by Rhodes and Banner and Maximoff and Vision, of all people.

Bucky usually despised to be up this close and personal to people, the only exception being Steve or the kids, but hell, right now it was the best thing in the world, the steadfastness and warmth and comfort of the shared hug, being in the middle of a pile of people who fought at each others’ sides and were terrified of losing each other.

Turned out, Bucky was gone for a solid five minutes. Which was odd, because he had no recollection of that at all, and neither did the others who had disappeared.

Bucky watched Wanda, but she had eyes only for Vision, at least after she was sure everyone was real and here, and nothing in her powers told otherwise.

The talking raccoon hugged the weird talking tree creature and cried, with ugly sobs and open tears, and Bucky had to turn away, as though he had seen something private.

T’Challa and Okoye touched their foreheads together with eyes closed. That was both more heartwarming and more intimate than Bucky wished to witness too, feeling like his gaze could steal it away from them.

He shared a glance with Wilson, and where once was distrust and caution, he only saw camaraderie and quiet relief now.

 

The trauma didn’t go away instantly. Although Bucky didn’t remember a single moment of being nonexistent - and everyone else swore the same - the ones who remained still had to witness them crumble to dust in front of their eyes while they were helpless to do anything about it, and _they remembered_.

Steve didn’t let go of Bucky. Bucky didn’t complain at all.

They kept the contact while helping each other out of their sweaty, worn down uniforms, held hands while standing under the hot ray of water in the shower, too tired and maybe too afraid to talk at all. When they finally laid down on the bed, Steve dragged him close and Bucky pressed his back to Steve’s chest. Their fingers were entwined in front of Bucky, Steve’s palm pressed fault against his chest, like he was measuring Bucky’s steady heartbeats with every sense.

Bucky turned his head and stretched his spine as much as he could to give a chaste kiss. “Rest,” he huffled. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Steve just pressed his lips into a thin line. “I saw… again. I lost you again and couldn’t do-” The pain of the memory took his words away, but he didn’t cry - just like he didn’t cry on the first, the second, the third day of his mother’s death, until he couldn’t bear it anymore and broke down in the middle of their shared dinner. Bucky didn’t expect anything else now either: Steve, stubborn and proud as always, plans to do his best to bottle up his hurt.

Not a healthy coping mechanism.

But it was okay, because Bucky was here, he was going to be here for as long as they live, and he’ll help Steve through it. Just like he’ll be able to count on Steve if the events ever catch up with him and he needs someone.

They always had each other. Lost or found, villain or hero, alive or dead - they always comforted each other. Bucky didn’t plan to give that up at any time soon.

He lifted their hands to his mouth and breathed a gentle kiss on Steve’s knuckles. Then slowly he unwrapped their fingers, shushing Steve’s terrified protest while doing so. “Just a sec,” Bucky murmured, then took off a bracelet from his wrist. His only hesitation was on _which_ one but he was able to decide within a second. He’ll explain to the kids (to T’Chikirinki especially, since it was his gift), and he gently put it on Steve’s wrist instead.

It was the one with the wolf figure.

“I’m here,” he said, keeping his voice low and even despite the effort it took. “You’re here with me.” He guided Steve’s free hand to the little shield on the other bracelet, the one that remained on Bucky’s wrist. “We’re alive,” he reminded Steve, and squeezed his hand, fingers curling together again, touching both the tiny wolf and the little shield at the same time. “It’s okay,” he whispered, at last, and closed his eyes and breathed in relief. “We’re home, Stevie.”

The world was saved, they had a place to stay, and they had each other. Damaged and battleworn, a hundred years old and a little out of their depths, but somewhat stable and endlessly loving.

“To the end of the line,” Steve whispered into Bucky’s neck.

“And even beyond that,” Bucky smiled and kissed Steve’s bruised knucles again.

It was just perfect to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other-Steve and Other-Tony are from the Avengers Assemble universe, because I love that cartoon and the team dynamics there and stony is basically canon there, anyone can fight me over this.
> 
> Thanks for the read! Leave a comment if you liked the fic! Feed the writer! :)
> 
> You can find me [on tumblr](http://menatiera.tumblr.com) as well.


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